"Kathryn, are you all right?" When I came back later that night, she was sitting on the couch, poring over another padd. I pulled her over to me and started to rub her neck.

She sighed and settled in. " Thanks. And yes. I'm fine. I just -- oh hell, it sounds ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous?"

"The turbolift's ridiculous. I'm ridiculous. I can not for the life of me
figure out why the stupid thing is still acting up. I've looked at the specs
a dozen times. I've gone over every component there is. There is NO
explanation for why it's running 2 seconds slow."

"What does B'Elanna say?"

"I don't think I should repeat that."

When I stopped rubbing her neck, she continued. "Don't misunderstand. She's
helped every step of the way.... it's just that I think she thinks I'm crazy."

"I'm not going anywhere near that one."

She sighed. "You too, huh? Well, you're all probably right. I don't know why
it's bugging me. Probably it's just that what should have been a nice, sweet,
simple fix is turning out to be impossible."

I smiled. "Easy fixes are hard to come by in the Delta Quadrant."

"Tell me about it."

I stopped rubbing her neck, and pulled her into my arms. "Kathryn, you'll
work it out. Just use some of that Starfleet ingenuity you're so famous for.
Give it time. You'll find the answer."

She shook her head. "I doubt it. And I think this one requires Maquis
ingenuity. You know, now that I think of it, you've stayed completely clear
of this and..."

"Oh, no."

She laughed. "Coward."

I returned the smile. "I'm serious, Kathryn. You're the one with the skills
in this arena. Do you know how the phrase Starfleet ingenuity became common
slang on the ship?"

It was a thing of beauty, of glory, of absolute brilliance unrivaled in the
universe, or at least unrivaled in the Delta Quadrant. His father had always
said it was better to be modest. It was intricate, detailed and stupendously
designed. It was a true measure of Maquis ingenuity --- the ultimate example
of how even the worst materials, combined with the best of minds, could
result in excellence.

Of course, it was also illegal by Starfleet standards. That was, as Tuvok
often said, "irrelevant." Still, Chell sighed silently. If they were in the
Alpha Quadrant, he'd make millions of latinium on the machine. Of course, if
they were in the Alpha Quadrant, he'd probably be dead. He smiled, and
decided that all things happened for a reason. Here he was in the Delta
Quadrant, ready, willing and able to try out the first, the only, the most
brilliantly designed illegal still that had ever been made. There was true
beauty in the universe.

Vodka, beer, wine, whiskey, hatnotivi, risan liqueur -- all of them, all
readily available immediately. Just put in water, carbohydrates of any sort,
and a few secret ingredients, and press the right button. And it WASN'T a
replicator. No, this used real ingredients. Unbelievable. It was a critical
and entirely necessary piece of equipment for the Delta Quadrant, considering
Janeway's bad habits of putting them IN danger and OUT of replicators with
regular frequency. And it was beautiful. It'd taken him months to perfect.
Dalby and Gerron had even started to worry about him, claiming he was
obsessed. But he'd been determined. And now it was done.

He had to try it out. But...it was obviously no fun to drink alone and if he
was the only one who knew about it, the beauty of the design would remain
unappreciated. That would be sad; it deserved to be cooed over, to be
examined with awe. Of course, none of the Starfleet straights would
understand the significance of his break through. Only someone who understood
the importance of making something out of nothing, of seeing connections
where there weren't any, would understand the brilliance of his design. This
was clearly a Maquis maneuver.

Pushing out his chest, and smiling at the thought of the accolades soon to
come, he went to find Dalby and Gerron.

Dalby ran into the bathroom, barely making it to the sink before he began to
heave. "Damn it, Chell, you're trying to poison me."

Chell turned a slightly darker shade of blue. He coughed and swallowed. And
then he coughed again. "I'm not. All right, so maybe it does need a few
adjustments. But the design is there." He thought about the possibilities.
"Leola root probably doesn't have the right amount of carbohydrates, that's
all."

Dalby came back into the room, a greenish tinge to his skin, and a murderous
expression on his face. "Leola root, my ass. That's just nauseating. *This*
I nearly died from."

Chell bristled, defending his design. Dalby just didn't seem to understand.
All inventions required a few adjustments at the onset. "It'll take time to
perfect the mix, that's all, but it's still.."

Dalby interrupted. "It's still one of your stupid schemes that never works
out." Dalby turned away and sighed. "Look, Chell, you're good at alot of
things, and you saved my skin on Liberty a couple of times, so I'm gonna
forget this one. But get it clear --- you are NOT an inventor. Never have
been. Never will be. The idea's crazy."

Chell turned and looked at Gerron, hoping for some support. Gerron just
shrugged and said, "You know I don't drink, Chell." Chell could have sworn he
heard Gerron mumble something like "thank the universe" under his breath, but
he decided he was mistaken. Gerron was always up for new ideas.

But Gerron let him down when he continued. " Dalby's right. The design makes
no sense. Let it go. Why don't you go play pool or something -- you know, do
something safe that will relieve some of the stress you've been under
lately."

Chell shook his head. Dalby and Gerron both clearly thought he'd lost his
mind. But he knew better. Well, no inventor ever met with immediate approval.
He was just a man before his time. They'd come to understand the significance
someday. He'd prove it to them.

The problem was that he needed to use something besides leola root. He
thought it through. Neelix probably wouldn't let him into the stores without
some explanation. But then again, Neelix was always talking about the need
for the crew to have hobbies. Maybe he could appeal to the Talaxian as the
"morale officer" and squirm his way into the stores. It was worth a shot.

He got up and looked at Dalby and Gerron with disdain. "Brilliance is never
understood."

He ignored their groans as he left the room loudly.

Chell plotted his approach to Neelix thoughtfully. The best time to ask for
his help was between meal shifts, while Neelix was alone. Chell waited until
1400 hours and then skulked discretely into the Mess Hall, vigilantly
protecting the device. He didn't want to have to make any more explanations
than were strictly necessary.

The Talaxian was delighted to see him. "Mr. Chell, what can I do for you? And
well, don't you have something interesting there? What is that?" Neelix
pointed to the still.

Chell smiled. "It's a surprise. It combines real foodstuffs and makes Alpha
quadrant beverages out of them. It's a real breakthrough, Neelix, but I need
your help. It needs just a few tiny adjustments."

The Talaxian's smile grew. "Of course. Glad to help wherever I can. What is
it you need? I'm sure the Captain would be delighted if you could make some
real coffee that's not replicated."

Chell sighed. All right, maybe he hadn't told the exact truth, but, well, it
WAS possible that someday he might be able to adjust the mix to make coffee.
And it was the design that was important anyway. What were a few untruths in
the overall scheme of the universe and the pursuit of knowledge and beauty?

At first, Neelix was wonderful help, marvelous help, a truly thoughtful
co-inventor. They tried a variety of liquids and carbohydrates.
Unfortunately, the Talaxian's tastebuds weren't quite in line with Alpha
Quadrant delicacies. Or perhaps that was fortunate. The Talaxian's tastebuds
were also unfamiliar with Alpha Quadrant alcohol.

They were happily into the middle of a discussion between the values of using
potoka and leola root, when Neelix suddenly stopped and looked at him with a
saddened expression.

"Mr. Chell?"

"Yes, Mr. Neelix?"

Neelix said knowingly, if slightly blurry-eyed, "This machine is a still."

"A still that Lt. Tuvok would throw you in the Brig for developing and me in
the brig for Collusion."

Chell shuddered at the thought and said urgently, " Neelix, it's not the
alcohol that's important. It's the beauty of the design.... it's such a
beautiful, beautiful baby." Chell ran his hand lovingly over the instrument.

Neelix looked down at the machine and smiled sadly. "It *is* lovely. I used
to invent quite a bit in my day. I understand what you mean."

Chell looked at Neelix in relief. "I *knew* you'd understand."

Neelix sighed with resignation and regret. "It's shtill a still."

"Yes, it is."

"It's got to go, Mr. Chell. You need to ... dismantle it."

Chell gasped. "You can't mean it."

Neelix groaned. "I have to mean it, Mr. Chell. Lt. Tuvok is quite capable of
being... logical about this sort of thing."

Chell sighed. He'd had such hopes, but the Talaxian just didn't understand
inventing, not really. "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble, Neelix. I will
accept your advice."

The Talaxian got up. "Thank you."

As Chell walked to the door, Neelix turned to him once more. "Mr. Chell, I do
believe the problem's in the way you've adjusted the mix. You need a
thingamabobby to adjust the whatdoyoucallit. Not that that matters, of
course. It's still got to go."

Chell nearly started to cry. "Of course."

He wasn't done yet. He was down but he wasn't out for the count. Chell
determinedly wandered toward Engineering. He knew he was a braver man than
most. This proved it. He was willing to face... Tuvok, if necessary. He was
slightly ... tipsy, but he was a man with a mission. Tipsy wasn't important;
his invention was. This was a break through. He was the inventor par
excellance. So, maybe, just maybe, there were a few problems. But he was sure
Neelix was right. The Talaxian had given him the idea. He needed to adjust
the mix. It was going to be easy if he could get his hands on the right
thingamabobby.

Unfortunately, getting the right tools required getting into Engineering, and
that required getting past Torres. He paled. Torres was always... scary...
when he'd tried to use her tools on Liberty. But this was a big ship, an
important ship. No reason one additional person was going to matter. They
wouldn't even notice him. He took a deep breath and walked in the door.

He was immediately relieved. The scene was a zoo; there were people scurrying
all over. It was chaos. He snuck over to the first available bay and started
looking for a ... whatdoyoucallit. Unfortunately, Ayala saw him nearly
immediately.

"Chell, what are you doing here? Oh hell, it's got to be another one of your
hair-brained schemes. You've got to get out of here. It's serious right now.
The warp's down and B'Elanna's on a roll. Even Janeway's down here trying to
help. If they see you, you're dead dilithium."

Chell looked up, defensively. "This is important. It'll only take a minute
and ---"

Torres turned and looked at Ayala and Chell. "Kahless, Chell, not again. What
have I told you about the tools? This is some damned idiocy of yours, isn't
it? Not now. Ayala, get over here and help me with this. Chell, if you're not
out of here in 10 seconds, I'm going to enjoy feeding you to a bevy of
bemeloths when I'm done, piece by piece."

Chell turned back to the workbench, determined to finish, only to find
Chakotay hovering over him. "Torres just told you to leave, Chell. I suggest
you follow her advice."

"Chakotay, it'll just take a *second.* I swear this is important."

"I've heard it before. Look, Chell, we're busy now. Take it somewhere else.
Talk to me tomorrow, or next week. Just not now. If you don't have enough to
do, I'm sure Tuvok would be glad to extend the workout schedule. Laps, for
example."

Chell paled. Chakotay turned away knowingly and started to consult with
B'Elanna.

Chell stared in misery at his invention. They'd all let him down. All the
Maquis -- Dalby, Gerron, Ayala, Torres, Chakotay --- none of them understood.
All right, maybe there was an emergency, but he had brains, he had ideas, and
he wasn't in the way. The invention was important. He just needed to use one
little tiny space in one little tiny corner of one little tiny bay. Even the
Talaxian hadn't really understood. It was hopeless. No one cared. He got up
sadly, carefully holding his device, and began to leave.

Unfortunately, he wasn't as sure on his feet as he usually was. He stumbled
and wobbled straight into ... oh, Kahless, it was the Captain. He panicked
and they both nearly ended up on the floor. Chakotay came up immediately and
steadied the Captain, his face implacable. Chell understood the expression.
He'd seen it before. Death could only be minutes away. Well, that didn't
matter anymore. The Maquis had let him down. He was a devastated man. What
was death after devastation?

"What is this?" Janeway had her hands on the device. She was looking it over
with confusion.

Chell choked and stayed silent.

"Ensign? What is this?" Janeway kept looking at the device, examining it
carefully.

Chell thought it through ---name, rank and serial number... that's what Tuvok
had told him in the training. That's all he had to say. He started to choke
them out.

Janeway looked at him in surprise and then back down at the still. "Chell,
are you all right? I know who you are. B'Elanna, come look at this."

Torres walked over and grabbed the machine. "I'm sorry, Captain. I--"

Janeway interrupted. "B'Elanna, LOOK at it. Didn't you just say that if we
had a way to adjust the flow slowly and change the chemical composition as we
went -- well, I think Mr. Chell has a device here that can do just that."

Torres looked carefully at the still. "Kahless, I think you're right. We'll
have to change the metals, of course, and .. but it might work, Captain."

Chell realized suddenly that the room was quiet. They were all staring at
him, expectantly. He gulped.

Janeway finally broke the silence. "Good work, Ensign. I knew a little Maquis
ingenuity -- making something out of impossible connections -- was what was
needed. Thank you."

Chell looked proudly at the most incredible, courageous, intelligent Captain
in the Quadrant. Well, that's what he thought anyway. He said carefully,
looking disdainfully at the Maquis in the room, "It was *Starfleet*
ingenuity, Captain. It takes brilliance to understand brilliance. I'm glad my
little device can help you save the day."

* * *

Kathryn smiled up at me. "Are you telling me that thing was a *still*?"

I smirk. "Yes. I'm afraid it was."

She sat silently for a moment. "Did he ever fix the mix?"

I got up and pulled her off the couch. "Hoping for the coffee, hmmm? That's
another tale for another day."

She smiled and sighed. "Chakotay?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think it would be a good idea to put Chell on the turbolift problem?"

I laugh hard and pull her into the bedroom. "I think you should decide,
Captain. Starfleet ingenuity can often go a long way."